


Deep Water

by orphan_account



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: AU, Incomplete, Juvenilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-22
Updated: 2001-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Deep Water

Genevieve Beecher paused in the entrance of the kitchen and looked at her husband. He was seated at the kitchen table, his back to the sliding doors which opened to the backyard. His head was bent over the paper unfolded before him. Tobias had drawn back the slats which folded before the door and sunshine lighted the kitchen. The morning light caught at Toby's hair, making the softly curling strands glint gold and red. He glowed in the sunlight--beautiful, warm and alive.

Emotion twisted sharply in Gen's belly and she bit her lower lip to hold back a gasp. She slowly became aware of the taste of blood. Gen drew her teeth from the torn flesh of her inner lip and left her post in the doorway. She knew that Toby was well aware of her presence, though he had not looked up from the paper. She wouldn't have been choking on this sudden wave of loss had he looked at her. Head bent and eyes lowered, Toby looked oddly vulnerable. His eyes would turn coolly distant the moment they met her own and she wouldn't long to touch him with that stranger's gaze upon her.

There was coffee left in the pot. Gen took a mug from the cupboard and poured the remaining coffee into it. Toby usually woke hours before Gen. She took a careful sip from the dark blue mug. The coffee was still warm, and Gen knew that it likely wasn't his first pot. He had probably eaten and eased himself into the day with his first cup of coffee soon after he awoke, before engaging in the rest of his morning routine. She had seen his running shoes tumbled in the hallway when she came downstairs. He had been running again. It was a recenlty acquired habit--one that Dr. Riemundo had encouraged. The thought of the psychologist soured Gen's mood. The woman was nice enough, Gen supposed, but she despised the thought of anyone probing into her private affairs.

Gen set her coffee mug down on the table more sharply than she had intended. Toby finally drew his eyes away from the newspaper. He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow which Gen ignored. The last of Gen's nostaliga born tenderness died in that moment. "Did you get the mail?" she asked, her voice sharp and cool.

Toby shook the paper slightly, working out a wrinkle before he could smoothly turn the page. "No," he said. "It wasn't there when I checked."

Gen looked at the delicate watch neatly secured around her slim wrist. Judging that it was late enough that the mailman must have passed, Gen made her way towards the enterance hall. Gen's painted nails scrapped agains the doorknob as she unlocked the front door. Gen slipped her hand into the mailbox, feeling for the edges of the envelopes within it. She drew several enevelopes out and withdrew into the house. The door was carefully closed and locked behind her once agian before Gen headed back towards the kitchen.

She flipped through the mail as she walked from entrance hall to the kitchen. She shuffled the envelopes into order--her own mail, Toby's, unwanted. Toby had finished with international news and had moved onto local by the time Gen hooked her foot around the leg of her own chair and pulled it out from the table. She sat down and slid Toby's mail to the center of the table where it just brushed the edges of the newspaper spread out before him.

Gen had thrown out the junk mail before taking her seat and all that was left to deal with was her own mail. She took a sip of her coffee as she shuffled through the remaining mail again, taking closer note of the senders. Bank, credit card, her parents and. . . Gen's lips pursed at the final envelope. She set aside the other envelopes and fit her nail under the flap of the largest. She slit the top open and peered inside.

Her eyes furrowed in confusion as Gen saw the back of a photograph. She tilted the envelope and several glossy photos slid into her waiting hand. It took a moment to realize what she was seeing. Gen's face paled and her breath escaped her in a harsh gasp. "Oh," she said. "Oh no."

Concern transformed Toby's face. "Gen?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

Gen clenched her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Without a word, she passed the pictures to Tobias, face up.

...~*~...

Well, Toby thought. Words failed him past that point. With deliberate care, he made his way through the pictures. Once done, he set them on the tabletop and clasped his hands below them. The images were clearly fixed in his memory. Toby continued to stare down at the top picture.

He supposed he could understand the attraction. The man standing between Gen's legs had broad shoulders, a strong back and muscled arms. They were in an office, Gen seated on the edge of a desk. The man's dark head was bent towards the curve of Gen's neck and shoulder. Gen's head was thrown back, her mouth parted. Bare legs and high-heel clad feet were visible latched around the man's trim waist. This stranger was touching Toby's wife more intimately than he himself had in years.

Memory surged from behind the carefully constructed walls Toby had built. Gen's laughter tinged voice whispered through Toby's mind: 'some people exude sex. You're a cutey, Toby, but you aren't one of them.'

Toby's voice was flat when he spoke. "Who is he?"

Gen sucked on her lower lip. Her eyes slid to the side as she sought the answer to Toby's question. "Chris something," Gen finally decided. "Chris. . . Keller? Yes. Yes, that's it," Gen said with certainty. Her elbows landed on the table. Carefully smooted oval nails rhytmically circled against Gen's temples. "God," Gen breathed, "what a mess."

Toby's mouth twisted into a humourless smile. "Maybe." He looked down at the picture. Light caught against the silver anklet at Gen's right ankle, crossed over the left. "Tell me everything you know about him."

"I met him at the club--the one Rosie told me about." Gen waved her hand vaguely, "I can't think of the name right now. You remember it."

"Yes," Toby said shortly. "Looks like you thoroughly enjoyed our anniversary after all."

Gen flinched slightly. "You were the one who left me there, Tobias," she countered, embarrassment turning her voice hard.

"Because Angus was at the hospital," Toby replied, anger warming his own voice. Toby's tightly clenched fingers loosened and unlatched. He brought a hand to his face and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "That doesn't matter now." They would both blame the other no matter what the sequence of events. The years had made them masters at ignoring the facts of their own marriage and clinging fast to old hurts.

"You left," Gen continued after a pause in which she attempted to reign in her temper. "I saw him by the bar. I approached him, we talked for a while and then we went into his office. We had sex. He got called away and I left," Gen said flatly. She twisted at her wedding band and watched Toby from behind lowered lashes. The look in her eyes dared Toby to make an issue of the sketchy nature of her portrait of Chris Keller. "What are we going to do, Toby?"

Toby pushed back from the table. He picked up his empty coffee mug and placed it in the sink. Toby turned so that his hip was propped against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied Gen. "You're going to stay here. I'll take care of things," Toby informed his wife. He had failed to protect Gary, but Tobias Beecher would not allow any force to destroy what was left of his family.


End file.
